


The French (Maid) Mistake

by bluest_skies



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cockles, Comeplay, French Maid!Misha, I really have no idea where any of this came from, M/M, Masturbation, Misha loses a bet, Misha wearing a french maid outfit, Pre-Relationship, Really it's just Jensen hoping he's not fucking up his friendship with Misha, Sorry not sorry?, They're always interrupted dammit, very light angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2100693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluest_skies/pseuds/bluest_skies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha loses a bet with Jared and has to be the boys maid for three weeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo...Misha dresses in a French Maid outfit at the GISHWHES meet up and then all this happened. I don't even know guys. This is my first RPF, so take warning: it's probably OOC or whatever. I don't know even know *cringe* (gah, I keep saying that) No disrespect is intended to anyone mentioned in this fic. It's just a Cockles AU. This is the first few days. I don't know if I'll add anymore? (I kinda want to? And I have some ideas for more days? I don't know!! *flaily hands*)
> 
> ....yeah I'm gonna shut up now. So...enjoy?

Misha stared at the phone screen, which Jared was holding about three inches from his face.   
  
"This is bullshit," Misha accused. There's no way he could have lost this bet. He agreed to the damn thing because he knew he couldn't lose. They had roughly the same amount of followers, but he had more of an active presence on twitter than Jared. Somehow they got into a discussion about their respective fans and a bet had been made: who could get the most retweets and favorites on a selfie? The loser had to be the winners maid for three weeks (complete with a French maid outfit) and even though Jensen didn't even have a twitter, he was included in the bet, getting the use of whoever happened to lose.   
  
"Totally not bullshit!" Jared crowed. "You lost man, so looks like on Monday, you're starting a maid service!" He broke down into giggles then, wiping a hand across his eyes. "Oh my god, this is going to be epic. Tell me, do you prefer black stockings or fishnet?"  
  
"Shut up," Misha grumbled. "How could this have even happened? My followers always make sure I win everything!" It didn't make sense. This had been rigged somehow. It was the only explanation.   
  
From his place by the door of Misha's trailer, Jensen muttered, "Maybe they just wanted to see you dressed as a French maid more than they wanted you to win."  
  
Or that was the only explanation. Fuck. Rubbing a hand across his forehead he sighed. "Fine. I'll start Monday, but I'm only 'working' when I don't have to shoot that day. 21 days, but not necessarily consecutive."    
  
Jared cackled and looked over his shoulder at Jensen. "Remind me to bring my camera. Holy shit this is gonna be awesome!" He stood, striding over to the door and clapped a hand on Jensen's shoulder. "Come on man, we gotta get on set." As he walked out of trailer and down the steps, Misha could hear his booming voice yell out at some at some random crew member," _Dude, I won! French maid Misha is a go!_ "  
  
Misha grimaced and rolled his eyes. "You should get going, Jen."  
  
"Yeah," Jensen said, pushing off the wall. "I should get out there." He paused at the doorway and looked back. "Sorry man."  
  
Misha waved him off. "It's fine. I'll see you later."  
  


MONDAY - DAY 1  
  
Misha was going to find Jared and throttle him with the strings of his lacy, white apron.    
  
He had arrived on set late in the afternoon, hoping to change into the maid outfit that had been sent to his apartment over the weekend, clean Jared and Jensen's trailer and get the hell out of there before he ran into anyone, especially Jared. Luck, however, was not on his side.   
  
First, both Jared and Jensen's trailers were locked (most likely on purpose) and by the time he tracked someone down to get them open, the boys were on a break while the crew reset one of the stunt pieces to do another take.   
  
Jared had thoroughly trashed his trailer, ensuring that Misha was there for quite a while, picking up trash, cleaning up various messes from take out dinners, and tossing his disgusting dirty clothes in a laundry basket (did he actually roll around IN dead things?). He wasn't even going to try and process what might have happened in the bathroom (though he might have had to stop and gag a time or two). And through it all, Jared had giggle-snorted and snapped pictures and commented on his "pretty, lacy, white panties" until Misha was about to lose it.   
  
The walk to Jensen's trailer was torture, it having been moved, forcing Misha to walk across the entire lot to the whistles and catcalls of the crew. He knocked on the door, hoping that Jen would take it a bit easier on him.   
  
Jensen's look was...indecipherable, eyes wide with shock, eyebrows nearly up his hairline, but the tiniest of smirks on his lips. Misha scratched the back of his neck.   
  
"Um. Hi."  
  
"Jesus Christ, Misha. Get in here." Jensen hissed, grabbing Misha by the arm and pulling him up the steps. He shut the door, walking across the room to sit down at the table. "I can't believe you're actually doing this," he snorted.   
  
"Yeah. Well, if anything I'm a man of my word," he said, fingers plucking at the sides of his short, flouncy skirt.   
  
Jensen rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Yeah I see that." Waving a hand in a vague direction, he muttered, "Just...go do whatever."  
  
Misha looked around. The living room was fairly neat already, but he straightened up a pile of newspapers that was on a small table, setting the TV remote beside them. He turned towards Jensen, who was currently staring at him, bottom lip captured between his teeth.   
  
"I guess I'll check the bedroom? Jen? You ok?"  
  
Jensen blinked at him. "What? Oh, uh yeah sure."   
  
Misha poked his head into the bathroom on his way down the short hallway. It was pretty clean, with just a towel hanging sloppily over the towel bar, which he straightened, and a toothbrush laying by the sink, which he left alone. The bedroom was also tidy, so he just straightened up, glad this day would be over soon. One minute he was leaning over the bed, straightening up the covers, and the next he was being spun around, and pushed down onto the bed, pinned down at the waist and shoulders by Jensen who was straddling him, hands balled into the collar of his dress.  
  
"Jensen?" Misha's breath caught in his throat. His friend's eyes were wild looking, pupils almost eclipsing the green, breaths coming out of him in sharp bursts. "What--"  
  
"Jensen! Come on man, we gotta get back on set!" Three loud bangs came from the front door, startling Jensen out of...whatever this was. He practically flung himself backwards off the bed, banging into the doorway as he fled the room, front door slamming shut behind him.    
  
Misha raised up on his elbows, thoroughly confused, knowing he was not imagining the hard length of Jensen's cock pressed up against his stomach. 

  
FRIDAY - DAY 2  
  
The past three days working on set did nothing alleviate the weirdness between Jensen and himself. Not that they ever got anything done in one take, but it got to the point where everyone from Jared to the camera crew was taking note of the tension between them. Finally towards the end of Misha's last night on set for the week, they nailed down the last scene. Jensen left as soon as he was able, peeling out of the lot in his car instead of using the car service.   
  
Misha stood now at Jensen's trailer door, not even sure if Jensen would let him in at all. They usually talked or texted and had group dinners throughout the week, but after Monday, Jensen did everything he could to avoid being in the same vicinity as Misha for longer than he had to.   
  
Surprisingly the door opened as soon as Misha knocked and Jensen ushered him in, face pinched and eyes ringed in dark circles. He looked tired.   
  
"You look tired," Misha said, echoing his thoughts.   
  
"Yeah I guess. Long week."  
  
"Right. Well I'll just..."  
  
"Yeah. Sure. I'm just gonna go over my lines."  
  
Misha turned towards...what he termed the living room, which was basically just the small two-seater booth that Jensen currently sat in, a small table, a love seat, and a large screen TV. The room was in slightly more disarray than the last time he was here and he grabbed a small trash can, making his around the small space. There were empty take out bags on the floor, along with used napkins, and various pages from old newspapers.  
  
He bent over, snatching an empty beer bottle off the floor when he heard a strained "oh my god..." come from behind him. Misha looked over to see Jensen's body hunched in, head buried in his hands.   
  
"Jen? What is it?"   
  
Jensen shook his head. "Nothing," he croaked out.   
  
~*~  
  
Misha was killing him, leaving him throughly horny and confused. After that first visit, Jensen had spent half the day on set trying to get the fucking picture of Misha's ass clad in white, lacy underwear out of his head (and failing miserably, he might add). That night in the shower, he'd jerked off to an image of Misha bent over, those underwear shoved aside so Jensen could push his fingers three deep into Misha's ass, fucking him until he cried out Jensen's name, and he'd come so hard he nearly blacked out. Needless to say, he didn't sleep much that night and he couldn't even face Misha the next three days. The scenes where they had to stare at each other intently were extremely difficult, with Jensen being unable to maintain eye contact without blushing furiously.   
  
And here he was again, in his fucking trailer, in this French maid get up; short, black dress, the skirt poofed out by ruffles underneath, the top part stretched tight across his broad chest and shoulders, legs bare (because Misha had refused to wear stockings or fishnets - to which Jensen was eternally grateful), a little lacy cap on his head, and his ass (dear god help him) clad in white, lacy panties.   
  
After the fifth time watching Misha bend over to pick up something he had accidentally (on purpose) left on the floor, Jensen was up and moving. He didn't even feel like himself. This was not him leaving his seat. It wasn't him grabbing Misha by the arm and dragging him over to the small love seat. And it most certainly wasn't him pushing Misha over the arm of said love seat so that his ass was in the air.   
  
"Jen..." Misha's voice was muffled by the couch cushion and he whatever he was about to say was cut off by the groan that came out instead as Jensen pressed his erection against Misha's ass.   
  
"Just...stop talking," Jensen said, his voice hoarse. He shoved his hand under the skirt, slipping two fingers into the waistband of Misha's underwear, sliding them back and forth. "Can I?"  
  
Misha looked back over his shoulder at Jensen and nodded. Jensen shoved the skirt up high enough to expose Misha's lower back, then hooked his fingers in the top of the lacy material, slowly dragging it down over Misha's ass. Jesus..." Jensen muttered, the skin just as tan as the rest of him, thoughts of how that came about (lying naked in his back yard? Nude in a tanning bed?) flitting through his mind briefly, and his cock strained against the fly of his jeans.   
  
"Just, hang on a sec. Don't move." Jensen quickly locked his trailer door and practically sprinted to the small bedroom, grabbing a bottle of lube from the bedside table drawer. As he made his way back, he watched Misha watch him, eyes widening at sight of the small bottle clutched in his hand. Misha pressed his face into the couch cushions, his groans muffled, and worked his legs further apart in anticipation.   
  
Jensen knelt behind him, dragging the panties down to his ankles so that Misha could step out of them. He tossed them to the side and turned his attention back to Misha's ass, now completely bare, his balls hanging heavy between his legs, cock thick and hard pressed up against the couch, the tip already leaking.  
  
Jensen hesitated for only a moment. He could stop this now and make everything weird and awkward for all eternity, probably losing one of the best friends he's ever had. Or he could take what his head and his body was telling him he wanted, and give Misha what HE wanted and maybe, just maybe stumble into something he didn't even know he'd been missing.   
  
He surged forward then, licking and mouthing at Misha's sac with wet smacking sounds. Jensen took Misha's dick in hand, giving it a few strokes before he leaned in, sucking at the tip, swallowing the salty fluid there, one hand fumbling around on the floor until finally (fucking finally!) he came across the bottle of lube. Jensen coated his fingers, raising up on his knees so he could spread apart Misha's ass cheeks. He swirled his finger around the pink hole, spreading the lube around, and tentatively pushed the tip of his finger past the tight ring of muscle.   
  
Above him, Misha cried out and Jensen couldn't help but echo him as Misha clenched around his finger and he could only imagine how fucking spectacular it would feel around his dick. He pushed the finger all the way in, burying it deep, and curled it upwards to try and hit the prostate.  
  
" _Holy mother fuck_!" Misha practically came up off the couch when he was successful and Jensen did it again, dazed by the sight of a huge gush of precome spurting out of the head, dripping down onto the floor.  
  
"You like that huh?" Jensen murmured, working his finger in and out, then adding a second.   
  
"Yeah, oh god, Jen _fuck me_..." Misha whimpered, hands clutching at the cushions.  
  
Jensen continued pumping his fingers, fumbling at the button and zipper of his own pants. He sighed in relief as his cock sprang free, and he looked up to see Misha's head turned back towards him, watching, tongue swiping across his lips.   
  
"You wanna suck my cock, don't you, Mish?"  
  
"Yeah, please. Can I?" Misha threw his head back, gasping as Jensen curled the two fingers, hitting that sweet spot.   
  
"No," Jensen growled as he added a third finger, fucking and stretching Misha open. He'd already decided how this was ending, and though the thought of those pink lips wrapped around his dick, swallowing his load was enticing, Jensen had other plans.   
  
Jensen stroked his cock, stopping now and then to run his tongue along the length of Misha's shaft and around the head, as his fingers pumped in and out of Misha's tight hole. Their combined moans, the wet sloppy sounds of his moving fingers, the sensation of those tight walls spasming around him, and his hips bucking as he fucked into his own fist was all that Jensen could think about. Not work. Not the stupid bet. Not how this entire scenario might impact his friendship with Misha. None of it mattered at this moment.   
  
When he was right on the edge, he stopped, moving his hand to stroke at Misha's dick. "Come on Mish, come for me." Jensen's hands worked in tandem until Misha's entire body was trembling. And then he stilled.   
  
" _Oh jesus god Jen, oh fuck, fuck, fuck!_ "  
  
Jensen nearly came right then, as Misha clenched around him tight (so goddamn tight), and his cock swelled, two gushing spurts of come shooting onto the floor before Jensen bent down, angling Misha's dick so he could catch the rest into his mouth, swallowing down the salty, bitter fluid with a groan.   
  
Jensen stood, withdrawing his fingers, and taking his cock in hand, he pumped furiously, hand grasped tightly around the shaft, the other hand pressed into Misha's lower back, holding him down. He came with a loud gasp, shooting all over Misha's back, watching his come slide down to the crack of his ass. With two fingers he swiped it through the fluid, pushing it deep into Misha's hole before gathering more on his fingertips to spread between his cheeks.  
  
Jensen exhaled loudly and tucked himself back into his pants, flopping down on the couch. He almost giggled as Misha squirmed around, maneuvering himself  until his head rested in Jensen's lap.  
  
They stared at each other a few moments before Misha finally said, "Soooo...might I ask what brought that on?"  
  
Before Jensen even had time to collect his thoughts, the door to his trailer jiggled.   
  
" _Jensen? You in there man? They're ready for us_." Jared's voice boomed from the other side.  
  
Jensen sighed. "Goddamnit," and Misha was gone, heaving himself up quickly and snatching his underwear off the floor, before racing down the hall to the bathroom.   
  
" _Yo, Jensen!_ "   
  
"Yeah, I'm coming!" Jensen yelled out, taking one last look down the hallway before he unlocked the door and stepped out. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just more smutty French maid Misha fun :)

After the sixth or seventh time of making the rounds to the boy's trailers, the novelty had apparently begun to wear off for Jared and Misha found himself there for only a few minutes before he was shagging ass to Jensen's...who never seemed to be there.

The first few times, he assumed Jensen had been called to set early, but he finally decided that avoidance was the game being played here.

After that first encounter (and the subsequent interruption) they'd not been able to talk about what had happened and what it meant, if anything. Jensen acted perfectly normal on set, as if he hadn't finger-fucked the hell out Misha and come all over his back, but when filming came to an end for the day, he disappeared before Misha could catch up to him.

He had one more work day on set and Misha was determined that the next day, Jensen's hiding would come to an end.

TUESDAY - DAY 8

God he was tired. Filming had run incredibly long last night and Misha had been unable to sleep, the anticipation of what might happen today (be it good or bad) making him restless throughout the night.

He got up earlier than normal, planning to wait in Jensen's trailer until he showed up.

Misha arrived when it just barely light outside, crew members just only starting to show up and prepare for a long day of shooting. He quickly made his way across the lot, fishing the copy of the key to Jensen's trailer out of his front pocket. Hitching his duffle bag up onto his shoulder, he climbed the two steps and unlocked the door.

Misha was not prepared to come face to face with Jensen. He startled, nearly windmilling backwards out the door.

"Jesus Jen, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Bit early for dusting isn't it?" Jensen looked as tired as Misha felt, a bit more stubble on his jaw than he normally had, and his eyes still held that sleepy look.

Misha dropped his duffle to the floor. "I came to talk to you since you seem determined to avoid me."

Jensen rubbed the back of his neck. "Not...avoiding. I just-- I dunno, Mish, needed to work some things through I guess."

Misha nodded. "And did you?"

Jensen walked forward slowly until he was very much in Misha's personal space, forcing him backwards until his back hit the wall. Jensen laid his hands on either side of Misha's head, leaning in, lips barely hovering inches away, their breaths mingling together.

"Yep." And then Jensen closed the remaining distance, mouths slanting together. Misha opened for him immediately and Jensen slid his tongue along Misha's, groaning at the sensation, like electricity was pinging through his entire body. He felt plugged in, on fire, _alive_ , every nerve ending tingling.

Mouths working together, Jensen slid one hand down Misha's body, hesitating at the waistband of his jeans before continuing on, palming his growing erection. Jensen wrenched his mouth away.

"Hard for me already," he growled, dropping down to his knees. He popped the button open and dragged the zipper down.

"Jesus Christ, Misha are you trying to kill me?" Jensen had expected boxers. Maybe boxer briefs. Hell even commando. He was not prepared for the sight of those fucking white panties from the French maid outfit.

Jensen pushed Misha's jeans down, his focus narrowed to the way the frilly material stretched across his hips, barely containing his cock. Jensen wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to the tip that was poking out at the top.

Above him, Misha exhaled sharply, a hand gripping at Jensen's hair. Jensen mouthed at his length through the fabric, working down and then back up until the material was soaked with his saliva. tongue lapping at the head. He pulled the panties down until Misha's cock sprang free, and swallowed it down, moaning as his mouth was filled.

Misha groaned, hips bucking, pushing himself deeper until the head brushed the back of Jensen's throat.

"Jen, _fuck_." Misha's hands gripped tighter in his hair, almost painful, and Jensen slid his hands around Misha's legs, gripping the back of his thighs, pulling at them until Misha finally got the hint. He relaxed his jaw, almost whining as Misha fucked into his mouth, and he swallowed down the spurts of precome.

Jensen's dick throbbed in the tight confines of his jeans and he worked them open, grunting as he pulled his shaft free and began to stroke himself.

He felt almost overwhelmed, Misha fucking deep into his throat as his own hand slid along his cock, wrist twisting on the upstroke.

"Jen, I'm gonna come," Misha gasped out, and Jensen let out a muffled " _mmph_ " right as Misha's body stilled, cock pulsing in his mouth as it was filled with come, warm and salty. Jensen swallowed it down, moaning around Misha's shaft as he came all over hand. He slid his mouth over Misha's dick, licking and sucking it clean until it began to soften, and he pulled off with a wet smack.

They were quiet a few moments, catching their breath and Misha slid down the wall until his ass hit the floor, jeans bunched around his knees.

Jensen sat back on his heels and chuckled.

"What?" Misha asked, confused.

Jensen gestured at Misha's jeans. "Got some on you."

Misha looked down and huffed. "Yeah I don't even care."

Jensen groaned as he made his way to his feet, tucking himself back into his pants. "I'll get a towel."

Before he made two steps, that familiar bang came from the door.

"Goddammit!"

~*~

FRIDAY - DAY 9

Jared finally informed Misha that since he'd been such a good sport about the whole bet, he was officially off the hook. Misha made his way to Jensen's trailer (possibly with a noticeable spring in his step), to inform him that their days of interruptions were over - from now on all sex was taking place at their apartments.

Misha hopped up the two steps and paused, key hovering at the lock. He could have sworn he heard a groan. Listening for a moment, but hearing nothing else, he slipped the key in and made his way inside.

The sight that greeted him nearly made him swallow his tongue.

Jensen was stretched out on the couch, one arm pillowed behind his head. The other was steadily working over the length of his cock. And he was wearing absolutely nothing.

"Finally," Jensen grunted. " I almost thought you wouldn't make it."

"Jen, what--"

"Get over here," Jensen gasped out, cutting Misha off. "I'm about to come."

As Misha made his way over, Jensen sat up, spreading his legs apart so Misha could kneel between them.

"Open up for me," and Misha complied, leaning in closer as Jensen angled his dick towards his mouth, hand pumping in short, quick strokes.

"Oh god, fuck, _fuck_..." Jensen watched as come gushed out onto Misha's tongue and lips, and Misha waited until the last drops fell before he swallowed it down.

"Mmm," Jensen hummed, leaning forward. "Missed some." He licked a stripe along Misha's cheek, then slipped his tongue into his mouth. Misha sucked at it greedily, then pulled away, bending down to suck a Jensen's softened cock until it was clean.

Jensen sighed, carding his fingers through Misha's hair. "Glad you made it in time." He chuckled. "Would have ruined my day otherwise."

"Yeah," Misha croaked, his own cock straining against the zipper of his pants. He pressed the heel of his hand against it, a whimper escaping him. Jensen pulled a face.

"I hate to do this but...you were kind of late and I've got an early call to set."

Misha froze. "Are you kidding me?"

Jensen pressed a soft kiss to Misha's lips. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Misha grit his teeth. "You're damn right you will." And then grimaced as (of fucking course) there was a knock on the door.

"See?" Jensen grinned. "I'll be out in a sec!" He yelled, sliding off the couch. "Come back tonight when we're done."

"No." There was no fucking way he was going to risk anymore interruptions. It was getting beyond ridiculous. "My apartment."

Jensen nodded. "Alright." He turned to head to the bedroom to get dressed and then turned back. "Oh, and since you're off today, you might want to spend the afternoon prepping that ass for me. Cause I have every intention of fucking you tonight."

All manner of speaking flew from Misha's brain and he nodded, a warm tingle fluttering in his belly.


End file.
